


Everything He Could Ever Need

by deluxekyluxtrashcan (rhoen)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Fingering, Asexuality, M/M, Masturbation, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 01:02:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6064986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhoen/pseuds/deluxekyluxtrashcan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hux doesn't share the same interests as the other boys at the Academy - not that he particularly cares. He deals with the physical side effects of maturing in his own way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything He Could Ever Need

**Author's Note:**

> Massive thanks to chickadddddd and ocktorok for letting me take part in the sprint, for reading over this randomness, and for just generally being wonderful human beings <3
> 
> Hux is a teenager in this. There is no sex, and to me there's no such thing as underage masturbation, but if you're not happy with reading about a teenage boy jackin' it, please don't read. I mention that he's sixteen, but that's prior to him trying anything more experimental, so let your imagination determine how much time has passed.
> 
> You can take or leave the asexuality: it's not directly mentioned in the fic. Hux certainly lacks the interest in having sex with anyone, but he still very much enjoys physical pleasure. 
> 
> Un-beta'd.
> 
> > **Do not translate or repost this fic without my permission.**. Ask if you'd like to translate it. Linking to it with a short snipped it okay though!

Hux often wondered if the world was playing a joke on him. He didn’t understand what it was every other boy his age was so excited about. They’d look at the female form with animalistic hunger, their conversations often turning towards it and to their desires - which sounded fictitious to Hux - and at any time of the day or night boys would sneak off furtively to spend time alone. Holos with salacious vids and photos were coveted and craftily concealed. The female form was highly revered.

But still, Hux didn’t get it. He still wasn’t in on the joke - or whatever it was - by the time he was fifteen, although by then he’d come to the conclusion that he was better than those around him; he wasn’t marred by such base desires. The human predisposition towards lust and ruinous emotions did not afflict him. Rather than being confused or even a little stung by the other boys’ enjoyment of a thing he didn’t understand, as Hux had been before, he smiled to himself, safe in the knowledge that he was superior to those around him. His time wasn’t devoted to chasing after explicit material or gossiping about imagined sexual exploits. Many of the boys boasted of conquests. He didn’t even care enough to decide if he believed them or not. He simply learnt one valuable thing: men weak enough to desire such things as the comforts of a women were easily distracted by the promise of such a thing, and could be exploited fully.

What Hux hadn’t counted on, however, was his own body having other ideas about what it wanted. The inconvenient arousal he certainly had no control over was usually quickly and efficiently dealt with, with as minimal fuss as possible. Ignoring it for too long resulted in an embarrassing mess in his bed, and it was far easier to ease the growing pressure while conscious and in control of where the resulting fluid ended up than to have to strip his sheets prematurely, with knowing, jeering boys all around him.

Turning sixteen, Hux won some privacy. It wasn’t just his prominent parentage which afforded him the position - he had worked hard and earnt it. Selected for private tutoring, Hux was given his own room. It was small - comprising of a bed, a desk and chair, a bookshelf, a wardrobe, and a basin tucked in the corner close to the window - but it was his. No more having to put up with the incessant bitching of the inferior males he’d had to bunk with since joining the Academy; no more having to put up with their mess, their midnight conversations, their goddamn voices. The washroom near his new room was for privately tutored pupils only - it was nice, as it suffered less footfall, and the few young men Hux had to share it with were often too tired by the rigorous routine they’d be elevated to. They attended more classes, and at more extended hours than the normal schooling programme. Their training was far more intensive. They were the ones deemed most likely to excel.

They were also the ones most likely to break. The routine was punishing for some. By the second month, three young men had broken under the pressure. They couldn’t carry the weight of it. The expectation was too great, and their resolve and determination too weak. Hux wasn’t sorry to see them go. It meant three less people around who might bump blindly into him in the corridor as they walked, like animated corpses, to and from their rooms, and three less people who might challenge his position further down the line.

Only Hux and one other boy positively thrived. The pressure pushed Hux to new heights. He felt himself growing even more into the person he was born to be. The boys around him fell away, inconsequential beings buzzing in the background. Meals were usually taken at the same time as everyone else, but Hux was always too preoccupied to notice or care about those around him. They weren’t his peers: never had been, and never would be. He even surpassed some of the teachers, evoking irritation and admiration in equal parts. He was given subject material to study that others could only dream of understanding.

Only once more did Hux try and evaluate his lack of sexual desire. He was impartial when reading over reports of violence towards any sex, and had paused briefly when reading over an account of a transaction in which only the young, attractive women had been enslaved. The purpose had puzzled him momentarily, until he remembered how other young men his age reacted to women.

Pulling up an image of a well-known and apparently highly desirable performer, Hux had taken time to study her form, trying to extricate from the shapes and lines that comprised her being what the underlying cause of attraction might be. He’d even gone so far as to touch himself, the caress light through his Academy uniform pants. But nothing happened. No part of him was interested. It was merely a flicker of intellectual curiosity, and when he closed the image, it was forgotten.

When his body made demands of him he was used to dealing with and moving on from, Hux slowly became aware of what he thought about during those times. He definitely didn’t think about women. Sometimes his thought flickered towards other young men, but those ideas never fully formed, and were more contemptuous and irritated - Hux resented being like them in any way, which he was when he saw to the all too human, inconvenient need that hadn’t lessened as much as he’d hoped it would.

No, when Hux let his hand slide over hot, straining flesh, seeking release from the physical distraction that inconvenienced him from time to time, he simply thought of how it felt. Hux wasn’t exactly familiar with pleasure - physical sensations were almost invariably ones of discomfort, as a result of hours in a stiff posture or intensive physical training. Hux didn’t enjoy much. His satisfaction was intellectual, rather than physical. But this was different. This was entirely focused on touch, and how his body responded, not his mind. In those moments there was little to think about but the pleasure he could offer himself, and when it was over, he tidied up efficiently and went back to more important tasks.

Although it made Hux wonder what else might feel good.

Women were there for procreation. As such, their anatomy was so designed to connect with a male’s in a way that was pleasurable. He wondered if he could put his indifference aside long enough to experience such a thing. No, he decided he couldn’t. Why involve another when he could see to his own needs satisfactorily?

There was also the fact that some men prefered their own sex, and Hux entertained that notion once or twice. As far as he could see, it was much the same as lying with a woman - experiencing the pleasurable sensation of a tight, hot body against and around your own. It might be easier, in a way, as Hux was more familiar with the male anatomy.

Which then led to the question what he kept coming back to, far more often that he wanted to admit: what did men get out of being penetrated? Did they enjoy it? Was there truly pleasure to be had?

It seemed, from the limited holovids he managed to hastily skim, that, yes, men enjoyed it. Immensely. Something akin to a blush had stained his cheeks as he’d watched, and he’d not turned the vid off. Over the coming weeks, he looked at a second, and then a third, and a fourth, in what he could only describe as curiosity. What the vids contained didn’t excite him, exactly, but the knowledge that the male body could respond so intensely to penetration made him wonder if every man possessed that ability, or if it was just a fraction of the male populus.

Curiosity, and better understanding himself, wasn’t a bad thing. Knowledge and understanding never weakened a person. It took time for Hux to find the time to experiment with the new idea - there were far more pressing concerns than his own physical pleasure - but when he found himself next taking himself in hand and working towards release, he’d lain back on his bed, knees bent slightly as his free hand reached lower, tracing over skin he’d never thought to touch, and hadn’t expect to find so sensitive. Pressure against his sack could help hasten orgasm, and the warmth and teasing tightness felt as good there as it did on his cock, but Hux had never explored further. He couldn’t quite understand why not.

The tight ring of muscles felt new beneath his fingertips; an undiscovered delight that made him tense and ripple with anticipation. It added a new, sharper edge to the pleasure, and just tracing around and teasing was enough to bring him off in less time than normal. Hux had lain back, come smeared over his stomach, and smirked, satisfied with his body. There truly was no need for anyone else. He pitied those who had to rely on another for gratification.

It wasn’t that it took Hux time to work up to pushing further, it was simply that he did not have the opportunity to do it. As academic pressures increased, the young man who had kept pace with him started slipping behind. Hux was mostly pleased, but a part of him missed the direct competition. It was always his destiny to stand out from others - to rule, not to follow - but the drive it had given him when someone was vying for the same position had helped push him just that little bit further. He became more alone than ever.

Alone was good. Hux liked alone. He was content in his own company, and at ease with himself: very at ease with himself. There was a fine balance between pushing just enough, and pushing to the point of exhaustion, but Hux consistently fell on the right side of the line, knowing when to endeavour and when to pull back. He never extended himself when he couldn’t afford to, and held back when it served him best.

So, when he had a chance to unwind, and take his time doing it, Hux allowed himself to further explore what he’d already started. This was the part of himself he was least intimate with, and as his fingers tripped over warm, sensitive skin, it still felt new and unexplored. This time, he had salve to hand - the kind often used to ease the friction of skin against skin - and his liberally coated fingers left a cool trail of the liquid as he reached lower, experimenting with the touch.

The first press of his fingers into his body didn’t particularly hurt, but the sting was close to uncomfortable. Lessening the intrusion to one finger, it became easier to manage, the sensation soon bearable. The slow movement of pushing in and pulling out made Hux’s breath hitch, his pulse skitting beneath his veins as he slowly opened himself up to the new experience. He could feel both the heat and tightness of his own body around his finger, as well as the surprisingly welcome stretch, and he experienced the dual pleasure of both penetrating and being penetrated, his breathing becoming increasingly laboured as he became more confident in what he was doing.

A second finger brought back the slight discomfort, but patience rewarded him with an even more satisfying feeling of being filled, the flare of his own joints seeming magnified as his fingers slid in and out of tight muscles. Long digits pressed deep into his own body, feeling the tight, silken warmth slicked with salve, and as he pushed in again something pierced through him. His eyes flew open, body arching against the bed and lips parting with a low moan as he grazed over something hidden and secret; something he’d not known to expect. Pressing against that spot again caused the same reaction to flare through him, and Hux’s free hand curled around his aching length, thumb collecting the wetness that had beaded at the tip.

Hux couldn’t contain the satisfaction he felt at his own body, and what it yielded. His wrist began to ache and protest at the position and continual movement, but the benefits far outweighed the discomfort. It was over soon anyway, come flowing thickly from him as he climaxed, encouraged by his own teasing fingers. He could feel the way his body contracted rhythmically, every muscle employed in wringing every last ounce of pleasure from him. It worked. He felt boneless: so sated he lay there for several minutes before the drying mess on his skin had forced him to the sink to clean himself up. He slept deeply that night, and woke with the barest hint of an ache, and a smile tugging at his lips.

Hux carefully meted out pleasure and release, his resolve always stronger than his desire. Sometimes at night he allowed himself what he wanted, and slowly stretched and teased himself, bringing himself off slowly and carefully, to the point where he was aching and writhing for it. Other nights he denied himself, knowing that the few hours’ sleep he got were too short to allow for the kind of relaxation. Sometimes he simply hadn’t worked hard enough to earn it, and there were far more important things to do than spread himself on his tiny mattress and finger himself to release. Which could happen. Diligent experimentation had won him that realisation; if he had the time, he could climax without ever touching his cock. He had almost total mastery over his own body and could control himself to the degree that he could push himself to the brink and pull back several times before finally giving in, making the final orgasm otherworldly.

He didn’t understand the need he still saw in the young men around him. He didn’t understand their desire for another body beside their own. He was aware of the fact that people probably regarded him as isolated and alone, but why did it matter? He didn’t care. Hux had everything he could ever need in himself.


End file.
